The New Organization II: Minds Warfare
by Wesker888
Summary: Part 2 in the New Org. trilogy. Read Part 1 first. The new wielder endures his first major challenge while searching for his friends, while a plot inside the Organization could lead to its ruin. DISCONTINUED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE
1. The Journey Starts

Part 2 of 3! Ya miss me, everyone? Heh heh…

Anyhoo, yup, here it is. The New Organization: Minds Warfare. The sequel to Part 1 and a lot more actiony.

As usual disclaimer, I state that nothing from the Kingdom Hearts Universe belongs to yours truly. The gods of Square Enix own all. I own the characters and I own the plot. That's the long and short of it.

Here's chapter one. Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter One: The Journey Starts

_He looked again out into the distance. Somewhere, out there, his destiny lie._

"_Hang on, guys," he said softly, "I'm coming."_

_Keyblade in hand and perched on his shoulder, he rushed forward, suddenly eager to go on an adventure._

_And with that, the greatest adventure of all time…_

_Had begun._

* * *

Three months later…

Ned fell to his knees, completely out of breath. So far, this hero business wasn't as rewarding as people made it out to be.

He looked up. The road kept going, onward and onward, as if it had no end and no planning on ever ending. It just stretched out, forevermore. One single, lone, dirt road, no wider than about a foot and a half, going through green pastures and windy hills and the likes.

The abnormally tall, really skinny boy of sixteen chugged down a gulp from his canteen that he had picked up from a lone store he had randomly come across about a month and a half back. He couldn't have been more grateful for it. It had kept him from death more than once on this 1,000,000,000 mile trek across the country.

He looked again out into the distance. He let out a big sigh. There was no way in Hell he was doing anymore today. He had burned all the daylight of the day. Night was soon coming on.

"Time to set up camp," he mumbled tiredly. Had he had someone else along, this wouldn't have been so bothersome. If his friends were with him, he'd probably be having the time of his life.

Of course, had his friends been with him, he wouldn't even need to be out here in the first place.

-----

As he lay down on his little mat, the fire next to him nice and warm, Ned thought back on the mysterious events that had led him to where he was now.

He hadn't always been this messed up…or at least, he never thought he had. Six months ago, he had been the most normal kid in the world; was a decent student, had two really awesome friends, a good, loving family- hell, he had had it made. Never would he ever imagine anything out-of-the-ordinary to ever occur to him.

Until the day he disappeared.

After that, things just got weird.

He was put into some sort of coma, lasting the better part of three months-two missing, one in the hospital. When he had woken up, he found he wasn't quite himself. For one thing, he had weird dreams. For another, he had a little white creature following him everywhere, telling him to go somewhere.

And for a third- he could summon a very powerful weapon.

He held his hand out from him and closed his eyes. In an instant, his Keyblade materialized out of light, and he grasped it firmly. Even with his eyes closed, he knew exactly what it was: a long, thin, gray blade with two small spikes sticking from the end, in the shape of a key. Its grip was yellow, its frame wide enough so he could fit his hand through and grab the grip easily. A thin key chain came from the frame, finishing its key-like appearance.

It was with this and the afore-mentioned creature that had spurred him and his two friends, Ren and Corey, to a large white castle in the middle of the forest. And it was here that he learned about the "Nobodies", a.k.a, the white creatures. But it was also here that he had found that creepy No. 1 guy- a man dressed entirely in black, topped with trench coat and dark glasses, with long black hair and two silver swords that he fought Ned with. The two had fought, and Ned had won, but it had been too late; Ren had been taken, and Corey had also disappeared. To find them, the stranger had told him to follow the path he had currently been wandering for the last three months. And here he was, right where he was supposed to be.

Though by the time he would finish walking the Yellow Brick Road, Ren would probably be dead.

There was a sudden rustling in the bushes near the road. In a flash, he stood up, his Keyblade posed, ready to strike. He hadn't had a chance to use it since his big fight three months prior, so he wasn't sure how rusty he was or how good he was going to be. He inched closer to the road, closer, closer, until he jumped out, and-

Nothing was there. Big surprise. He lowered his weapon. Just him being paranoid again.

"Hello, Ned."

He flinched. Someone was there. Directly behind him. Where he had come from, he didn't know, but one thing was for certain; this guy knew him, and it was doubted to be friendly. He gripped his Keyblade again, and turned around to face his opponent.

Instead, all he got, yet again, was thin air. He looked, puzzled, at the spot where he had heard the voice. Had he been away from society for so long that now he was hearing voices in his head to keep him company?

"Behind you."

Again, he turned around. And this time, he found his "company."

A man, tall and large, dressed entirely in black, from his boots, to his trench coat, to the dark glasses perched on his face to hide his eyes, stood before him, the wind whipping the hem of his coat sideways. He had on an evil smirk such as the one No. 1 had had three months ago, when Ned had met him. The appearance and the evil smile were so similar that Ned almost thought the villain had come back for a repeat performance, but he figured by the different size and hair length that this was an acquaintance.

"You work for that guy whose ass I kicked a while back?" he asked, trying to stir something up, though he wasn't sure what.

"And you are looking for that girl," the man responded, "the one we kidnapped."

Ren. His friend/love interest of sixteen years, who had been found just before his one-on-one, unconscious, and then was gone the next. "Where is she?" he demanded.

"Safe," was the answer he got, "That's all I am allowed to say for now."

Ned glared at him, which just prompted an upgraded evil smile.

"But if you want to see her," he said, "I can possibly make that possible. But you must be ready to take a very big step."

"Would that entitle me kicking your ass just as hard as I did your boss?"

"Amusing, but no," the man walked back and forth across the path, "You must proceed along this path until you come to a castle. And from there, your true journey will begin."

"'Keep walking the path'," Ned repeated with a resentful tone, "That's all you two have told me to do, follow the 'Path of 1,000,000,000,000,000 Miles'. That's all I've _been_ doing, for three months, is walking your fucking path! What, do you want me sore, tired, dehydrated, so when I fight you, I won't stand a friggin' chance?"

The man laughed amusedly.

"The castle is not far," he pointed down the road, "Just another mile or two in that direction. And don't worry about your strength. It will return to you."

He stopped in the middle again, and turned his smirk back to the poor boy.

"A word of advice for you, my stubborn little adversary," he told him, a little eeriness in his voice, "Down this path is the item you seek. But to claim it, you must be willing to lose something that I'm sure is very dear to you. For you see, in my little arena, to lose is to find, and to find… is to lose."

"Sounds like something you took out of a video game," was all Ned said on the matter. The man laughed again.

"Not a video game…just re-teaching the lesson of my predecessor," he said, "Now, if you are ready, come and find me. I'll be waiting."

With that, he snapped his fingers and was overtaken by a portal of darkness. When it faded, he was gone.

Ned stood straight up, looking at the spot where the man had disappeared. Then he looked onwards down the road. Down there was the castle. Down there was where this man, and any others like him, were waiting for him to show up, so they could spring whatever trap they had at him.

Down there was Ren.

Needless to say, she was worth it.

Forgetting all his camping equipment, he perched his Keyblade on his shoulder, and ran harder than he had these last couple months. He ran, forgetting how tired he was, how hungry and thirsty he was. He ran, because he had newfound hope. Hope in that this nightmare would be close to ending, where he'd find Ren- and hopefully Corey as well- and get the hell back to a normal life.

He sprinted up a hill and stopped dead. His eyes went bug-eyed, and his mouth dropped open.

There it was. A lone castle, standing there, in the middle of a death-like canyon. He walked down, looking up at its creepy setting. Its towers were tall and crooked, the tallest one's neck going up, then jointing left, then back up. A light shown from the tallest window of the castle, signaling someone home. Ned looked up at this hellish building and thought only one thing.

He had made it.

* * *

"_And so…it begins…"_

* * *

Chapter One up. Chapter Two, probably out sometime tonight.

Hope you enjoy it. Old readers will hopefully tell which Organization member this is. Hopefully.

Review please.


	2. Rules of The Forgotten Fortress

Chapter Two is up and ready.

It's short, but I really like the ending. I think old fans will, too.

Word to the wise: I know what it'll look like, but I assure you, the cards only come into play at the doors, you know, when you unlock the next level in Chain of Memories and all that. Aside from that, cards are non-existent.

Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter Two: Rules of the Forgotten Fortress

The minute Ned stepped through the doorway of the castle, he felt like he had walked through the archways of Heaven. Instantly, he was reminded of the castle they had found three months ago. Every aspect of the hallway was white; even the goddam flowers were white, from petals to stem. The roof went up so high, you'd have to wear five pairs of platform heels and already be about seven and a half feet to just graze it. Up ahead, directly at the end of the hall, were a single flight of stairs.

He looked around. It was too quiet. He had expected whoever and however many people living there would be ready to descend upon him like a bunch of rats to a piece of cheese. There was no one there.

If only his presence could go un-detected for longer.

"So, you've finally arrived."

Too late.

There was another dark portal, and when it vanished, the man was there again, staring at him intently from behind his dark glasses.

"I expected you here months ago," he said, almost disappointedly, "But I suppose better to have arrived late than not at all."

"Who are you?" demanded Ned. If he was going to kick someone's ass, he at least wanted it to have an identity.

"Names are not important," was the reply, "But I guess if I must answer to something, you might as well call me No. 6."

"So you _are_ with that No. 1 guy," Ned said, "Why the hell are you guys calling each other by numbers? Didn't your mothers ever give you names?"

The remark hit home. No. 6 made a snarl, and his fingers clenched up into fists.

"I would very much appreciate it if you did not make any discouraging comments at this time," he growled, "That is, if you want to see your friend alive."

Yet again, the comment had scored a reaction. Ned raised his Keyblade to defensive position.

"Where is she?" he demanded threateningly, getting ready to dish out the whoop-ass, "Let me see her, or I'm gonna stick this blade up your-"

"Take it easy, Lover Boy," No. 6 smirked again, "I enjoy the use of being able to walk freely. You will see your friend soon."

He stood back and thumbed towards the stairs.

"These stairs will lead you to her. But getting there, I'm afraid, is not that simple. Simplicity is not a strong suit within The Forgotten Fortress."

Silence. Ned cocked an eyebrow.

"'The Forgotten Fortress?'" he repeated skeptically, "You couldn't come up with a better name than that?"

"There are thirteen floors in this castle," No. 6 continued, not caring anymore for his comments, "Your girlfriend lies on the highest floor, in a deep slumber, soon to be awoken. All you need to do is climb these stairs, in order to get to her. No villainous creatures, no guillotines waiting for you on each floor. Just climb the floors, and when you get their, you two can go."

"Bullshit," Ned called immediately, "There's a catch. You said I had to take a major step. You said I had to do something important."

No. 6's smirk turned into an evil smile.

"Well…I suppose there is _one_ teensy-weensy little detail I should tell you about…"

Ned glared at him as he began explaining the rest of the details:

"On each floor, you will be encountered by a single memory. These could be as fond as your first date, or as distant as your first scrape on the playground. It may even be some you don't remember. But a memory will present itself. However, not all of these memories are as…trusting, let's say, as others will-"

"OK, you're losing me, fast," broke in Ned, trying and failing to grasp the concept.

"As you progress through the Fortress, you must trudge through the clouds of memories and find the thing that is most important to you, something you thought you had forgotten, long ago. And let me be clear when I say that, if and when you do find it, it will change you immensely. And you will lose who you are as a result of it."

Ned took a moment for that to sink in. So this is what he had meant when he had said "to find is to lose" and vice versa. In order to find Ren and this mysterious "something", he would lose a part of himself. Was he ready to do this? Was he ready to lose who he already knew himself to be, in order to find someone he didn't? Was this really worth it?

As that thought entered his head, so did Ren's face. Her semi-crooked smile, her hair, her eyes. Everything he loved about her appearance and, with that, everything he loved about her in general. And the thought of how, at that very moment, she was up there, waiting for him.

And all negativity left him.

"Are you sure you wish to undergo this trial?" asked No. 6.

"Yeah," Ned stated firmly, "Yeah, I do. I'm ready."

"Then here are the rules," the man snapped his fingers and a scroll appeared, unwrapped. As he spoke, writing appeared on the scroll.

"One, and this is most important: Once you start up those stairs, there's no turning back. So, if you're going to do this, you need to be absolutely sure. Number Two: though these are your past, don't blame me if you suddenly run into a few…un-expected characters on your visits. You'll know them when you see them. And Number Three: Keep an open mind. These memories are trying to help you. Let them. Think you can handle all that?"

"Yeah, I got it. Can I go now?" Ned was getting impatient. The more he stalled, the more time it gave them to do what they wanted to Ren.

His opponent smirked again. "Good," he said, "Then you'll need this to continue."

He whipped something out and, in the blink of an eye, whipped it at the boy at a high velocity. Ned just as rapidly caught it, and examined it. He frowned.

"What's this, a card?" he asked skeptically. The card was short and rectangular- as all cards were, of course- and had a white cloud on it. If you looked closer, however, the cloud seemed to be covering something up…

"A memory," No. 6 answered, "A forgotten memory. Once you go through it, it will no longer be forgotten."

Ned stuffed the cloud into his pocket. Then No. 6 gave one final word.

"Climb the stairs, Ned, and go onward to your friend…but be prepared. The girl you knew may no longer exist by the time you get there."

He nodded, and then he warped off.

Here, Ned finally showed some sort of look between horror and dread. What were they doing to her? Was she hurt?

He ran for the stairs, suddenly ready to kick a little bit of ass.

-----

_But what he didn't know was that he was being watched. From a dark, dark room, overlooking from a crystal orb, two shadowy figures watched the Keyblade hero ascend the stairs._

"'_Bout friggin' time," the first- a male- said slowly, in a city-boy accent._

"_He took his time," the other- a female- replied softly. "At least now, we can get these plans under way."_

"_Well, if you'll excuse me," the male stood up and began walking off when the female stopped him._

"_Where do you think _you're_ going?" she demanded._

"_I'm gonna go and have a little fun with him while he's here," the other replied, "Wouldn't be a good host if I didn't keep our guest entertained, right?" _

"_We have our orders, No. 8."_

_To her dismay, her associate laughed harshly at her._

"_Orders? I ain't takin' no friggin' orders from some toffee-nosed bastard like Jabba the Hutt over there. I been cooped up in this goddam room for three months waitin' for this kid to show up, and now I'm gonna go see if he was worth all the hell. Got that written down?"_

"…_Just don't have _all_ the fun," was all she said in reply, "Remember, I like to play with my victims too."_

_In the darkness, the man grinned wickedly._

"_Yeah, yeah… what's a little harm in some painless fun? Well, painless for _us_, anyhoo…"_

* * *

Trouble is a-brewing. We shall see.

Again, old fans may have picked up who all three members are. With any luck.

That's all for now. I need to do a little more brainstorming.

Review please!


	3. A Lesson on Luck

Chapter 3, up and out.

Yeah, I'm alive. Sorry about the wait. This one took a lot of time and concentration to get it to work. I think I've got it.

Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter Three: A Lesson on Luck

The minute Ned stepped through the door, it felt like he stepped through one of those floor escalators in Epcot that was set on hyper speed. He flew through space and time, head over heels, until he was certain that he was going to be sick. He made himself a mental note that when he got out of there, the next time he saw No. 6, no small talk required, his ass would be gone.

And then, just like that, it was over. And he was suddenly in the middle of the woods, nestled next to a big, wide lake. The sky was a crisp blue, though off in the distance was the threatening thunderstorm. A lone cabin stood near the edge, with an accompanying dock. The lake was pristine, blue. Compared to most lakes in America, this looked like it hadn't been touched by humankind at all.

"What the…?"

"**You know of this place, correct?"**

No. 6's voice suddenly boomed from nowhere. Ned looked around frantically, but he couldn't find the dark-clad stranger anywhere.

"Where are you?" he demanded.

"**You know of this place?"**

"Yeah, I know it…" the teen turned and looked down to the cabin by the lake. This one lone place brought back some of his best childhood memories ever, better even then some he had with his friends.

"It's my grandpa's house."

"**Yes, it is. You used to come here, did you not?"**

"Yeah…every summer, up until he died."

"**Did you love your grandfather?"**

"Of course. Growing up, I always thought he was the only one who could understand me. Y'know, he never tried to coax me into being somebody I didn't want to be. He always told me to go with what seemed natural. Twelve years of my life, he was always like that."

He smiled. His gramps was probably the looniest old Irishman man in the world, yet he was also probably the smartest. He knew exactly what the right things to say to him were, always. If his grandson ever got mad at him, it usually wouldn't be for very long. And he did some of the craziest things, too. Went hunting for Bigfoot, went flying over Alaska looking for the Abominable Snowman (he had almost died on that one; frost stuck to his windshield like bugs to that sticky paper), swore up and down on a stack of Bibles that he had once captured a yeti and then let it go for what he called "good behavior"…his wild stories were endless.

"**Do you recognize the setting?"**

He looked around. It looked like it always had, so there was no possible way he could tell what the hell he was talking about. "I've come here every summer, of course I know it," he said to thin air.

"**The setting is when you are five years old. You were here for two weeks. I'm sure you recall the rest."**

And he did. Almost instantly. And from the dock, he saw it. Two figures, one tiny, the other hunched over. They had headed for their boat, and now that they were in it, they had sped off into the middle of the lake. Ned, however, could still hear their conversation; he knew it by heart, as if he had just had it yesterday…

----------

_Five-year-old Ned sat in the boat with his grandfather while the old man roared the motor out into the middle of the lake. The wind whipped at them constantly. Water sprayed all over their faces. And elsewhere out in the distance, it looked like it was going to rain. And yet, neither were deterred by this. Both were happy just to be out in the boat and doing what they were doing._

"_Tell me the story again, Grandpa," he said when the boat finally stopped out in the middle of the lake._

"_Aw, you've heard the story a million times by now, lad," his grandfather laughed._

"_But tell me again. Please?"_

"_Alright, alright." Grandpa sat down with a deep exhale. "The Legend of the American Lir. Only a handful of people know it exists. And only you and me know it's out here in this lake. I saw it with my own eyes."_

"_Tell me about it again, Grandpa."_

"_Well, she's about thirteen feet long, and seven feet wide. She was brought here by a group of Irish smugglers, who hid it here trying to hide it from the English merchants who were after it. The fish itself would fetch a hefty price in Ireland nowadays. They let it into this lake, planning to go back for it after everything had died down. But they never returned to it. And to this day, it's just been swimming around, waiting for some lucky fisherman to come along and claim the prize."_

"_But Mommy and Daddy say it doesn't exist."_

"_What do they know? They didn't see it. But I did. I've been trying to get her for years, and today's going to be the lucky day. And I know you want to get her as much as I do."_

_He lifted his fishing rod and threw the line into the water. It bobbed there, patiently, while the old man sat back, pulled his fishing hat over his eyes, and put his hands behind his head. Ned shrugged and did the same, though on the other side of the boat._

_And there they waited, for what felt like forever, though it was probably only a couple of hours. Ned had his head rested in his arms, tiredly, staring straight at his line. His mind, however, was not on the fishing. His mind was on back home. On Corey and Ren, and what they were doing right now. He had wanted them to come, and now he wish they had; they probably would've wanted to do this as much as he did._

_His grandfather was the only man alive who would do this. No one believed he could get this fish. His parents didn't even believe it existed. His grandmother just shook her head, saying he'd been trying for fifteen years and he still hadn't caught it, and he never would. Ned believed he would, but that didn't stop him from getting his own share of doubts. If this fish really existed, why hadn't everyone found it by now?_

"_Grandpa…?" he started meekly._

"_Hmm?" Grandpa lifted his hat just enough to see his grandson._

"_Why does Grandma say you'll never catch the American Lir?"_

"_Well," he took his hat off and moved over next to his grandson, "I think it's because they don't believe an old-timer like me can pull it off. Or because they don't believe in my ideals. But the real problem is that they don't have any hope."_

_Ned cocked his head, confused, like the innocent little kid he was. "What does hope have to do with it?"_

"_Hope has everything to do with it. Hope is what drives everything to be its best. Without hope, humanity falls."_

"_But it's stupid to hope for impossible things, isn't it?"_

"_Ned, listen to me: it is NEVER stupid to have hope. All you have to do is believe. And if you can do that, you can do anything. You just need to believe good things will happen. And they will, Ned. They almost always will."_

_Ned nodded half-heartedly. It still seemed weird to him; like chasing a false goal, or something. But his grandfather believed it. And for better or for worse, his gramps was probably the smartest man he knew. So he let him do what he did._

_So they sat there, for about another hour or so, just watching their lines bob up and down in the lake waves. The boy was starting to drift off- what's a five or ten minute nap? - and dream about what he'd do when he got home when-_

_The line jerked. Once, twice, then three times. Ned sat up with a jerk, his eyes wide and faced right at the bobbing line. It jerked again, more ferocity in it this time. The boat shook slightly._

"_Um…Grandpa-?"_

_SPLASH!_

_This next jerk almost brought the whole boat under. Ned and his grandfather held on for dear life to the boat as it flung itself up into the air and almost capsized. Grandpa made his way carefully over to the rod and grabbed it. Ned followed in suit._

"_Alright, lad! Pull! Pull as hard as you can!"_

_They tugged on the line with all of their might. Not much, for an old man and a five-year-old. But somehow, bit by bit, they brought their mysterious entity over to the boat. From where they were sitting, they could see its large shadow in the water. The thing was roughly just large enough to be the size of the boat._

"_ALRIGHT! ONE MORE TIME!"_

_With all of their strength combined, they pulled backwards. Whether due to the pulling or by its own free will, the fish suddenly jumped out of the water and into the air. Ned gulped. The fish was so huge, when it came down on top of them, it might end up crushing them. But instead, it just landed next to the boat, splashing both of them with a giant wave. Grandpa, thinking quickly, threw a net around the fish and hastily started tying it onto the boat._

_Ned's mouth dropped. This fish was the size of their boat, if not even bigger than that. It had to be at least thirteen feet long. It was a red fish, with green eyes and a rainbow-colored tail. It thrashed viciously, its strength phenomenal. This had to be it. the fish from the legend; the American Lir._

"_We did it, Grandpa! We found it! We found it!" he proclaimed happily, jumping up and down. His grandfather just laughed heartedly._

_It took them another twenty minutes to steer the struggling fish back to shore. By the time they had gotten there, it had given up the fight. It had lost, and it knew that. Ned and Grandpa hopped out and walked along the dock, talking avidly about the adventure they had just had._

"_THIS ought to show the others up," the old man laughed, looking back at his catch. His grandson nodded._

_At the head of the dock, they stopped. Grandpa got down on his knees and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. He had a serious look on his face now. Ned stopped and waited._

"_Always remember, lad," his grandfather said, "In this world, a man makes his own luck. He doesn't count on others to do it for him. If you have the friends, the loved ones, and just a hint of hope, you can make anything possible. And that's a fact. Don't go through life negatively. Live."_

"_OK," Ned nodded, then asked, "but why friends and loved ones?"_

_Grandpa smiled._

"_Because, lad," he said softly, "Luck's measured only by the friends you make, and the people you love. That's all there is to it. Promise me you'll never forget that."_

-----

Now, sixteen-year-old Ned smiled fondly at the memory. That had been a great summer. Everyone had been so amazed when they had brought in that five –hundred pound fish. But he also remembered how, for hours afterwards, he had sat there, thinking of his grandfather's words.

"I think I get it now," he said aloud. "That's why you brought me here. To remind me of what he told me. People make their own luck. And it only counts on who I care about the most and who cares about me. And no matter what, I need to have hope. Hope that I'll see my parents again. Hope that I'll find Ren, and Corey too. Because they're what's important in my life. They're what make me lucky."

He looked up towards the sky.

"Well?" he shouted. "Am I right? is that the lesson you're trying to teach me here?"

From nowhere, he could hear a light chuckling.

"**Well done, Ned. Looks like you're not as stupid as I thought you'd be. You already passed the first test."**

And then, the world began to fade away. All he had known as a child- the lake, the cabin, the woods- all was fading back to white. And he once again felt like he was being fast-forwarded to somewhere, not moving, but still going forward.

And this time, before he knew it, he was back in the fortress. He looked down at the card. This time, there was a picture of a boy and an old man, dragging a fish in towards a cabin. He smiled.

"One down." He said happily.

And he picked up his Keyblade, and he continued onward to his next goal.

* * *

Next chapter: Fight scene.

Stay tuned. Review.


	4. Trial by Hell

Chapter 4, ready to go.

Alright, this chapter the first fight scene of this story.

Now, last story, I did a little thingy telling about the fight scenes in these stories. Because it was towards the end of the story, I don't believe everyone saw it. So, I'll post again exactly what these fights will consist of:

Now, here's how the fights in this trilogy work. Main things you need to know split into two sections:

1.) Going into the fight, the characters will make a scene pulling out their weapons and stuff. Then there's a page break, and then an opening line from the Organization member. The fight itself is entirely italicized, and how long they last depends on the opponent. As this is the first one, won't be too long, bout as long as Xadmain vs. Dexn earlier in the story, maybe longer. The Org. members will have the basic attacks I've always talked about, but at certain points, they'll shout an attack and a new surprise will be unleashed

2.) Now, this part, you're gonna think I'm drunk or high or something, but I'm not. It's an idea, you don't have to do it, but try it: When you read the fight, imagine that you're listening to the fight music from _Chain of Memories _and _KHII_. The part where the Organization member pulls the weapon out to the page break is played to the song known as "the 13th Dilemma" (like the scene at Hollow Bastion when Demyx gets ready to fight, if you know what I mean), while the actual fight goes to the tune "the 13th Struggle" (like during the Roxas vs. Axel fight scenes.) and that plays to the end.

I know, you think I'm nuts. Hopefully, you know the tunes I speak of. Just try them.

Yeah, all of that was just copy and pasted. If you think I'm writing all of that again, think again.

So, without further ado- enjoy:

* * *

Chapter Four: Trial by Hell

Ned walked into the second long, white hallway and stopped. On one end stood himself. And on the other end, in front of the next door, was No. 6. The man grinned.

"Enjoy the little reunion?" he asked, stepping forward.

"It was good seeing my grandfather again," Ned replied, doing the same. "But what's the point in doing this to me? What do you want from me?"

"Well, now," No. 6 answered, this time more seriously, "I suppose that depends on what it is you have to give to me."

"Alright, that's it." Ned stopped and took his Keyblade out. "I'm getting REALLY annoyed now. So hows about we cut the crap and I can get doing what I really want to do, which is taking this Keyblade and smacking you around with it. Whaddya say to that, No. 6?"

No. 6 stopped. His grin was still there, but it was something different now. Ned had the ugly feeling that, this time, a fight may very well be what this man was here for this time.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, somewhat amused. "Well, now…I don't suppose there would be any harm in doing that, now, would there?"

He raised his arms. Ned got into his combat stance. He wasn't too scared. He had beaten No. 1 at his own game. He could beat this guy. He was ready.

Suddenly-

"Peek-a-boo."

From the sidelines, there was another dark mass of energy gathering. And when it vanished, another dark-dressed figure appeared. This one was scrawnier, tall and thin, with mousy black hair and a thin scrubble beard. He was leaning against the wall, as if this whole scene bored the hell out of him. He looked up at them and smirked.

"I see you," he finished, talking in a city-boy accent, with a chuckle.

Ned frowned. _Now_ what the hell was going on? Who was this clown? How many more of these people were there? But he looked at No. 6 and saw that this was not someone he particularly liked to have around.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he demanded.

"I'm bored, and I'm pissed off, that's what I'm doin' here," the other man answered. "You've been down here playin' the good host, and I've been stuck up in that dark room with that friggin' cold-hearted bitch you stuck me with. What's a guy to do, y'know?"

Whoever that guy was, Ned noticed two things: that this guy had an annoying attitude, and that it seemed like nothing could keep him occupied. No. 6 stood there, quietly for a moment. His mind was spinning, trying to make a decision to something Ned couldn't see. Finally, in the blink of an eye, he whipped something over to the stranger, who just as fast caught it. They eyed each other through their dark glasses.

"Perhaps you think YOU could do a better job?" No. 6 sneered.

The other smirked.

"Perhaps I do."

The bigger man scoffed, then turned to Ned and sighed.

"I'm afraid our battle is going to have to wait for another time, Ned." He told him. "I'll see you later."

"Wait!" Ned demanded, but No. 6 had already warped off. The other man walked casually over to where his associate once stood and turned on his heels towards the boy.

"Looks like it's my gig now, Neddy," he said with a grin. "Nice to finally meet ya."

"So which number are you?" Ned asked mockingly, trying to score an angry reaction.

"Eh…I know I'm supposed to go and tell you I'm No. 8 or somethin' like that," the other shrugged. "But that kinda crap don't mean squat to me, y'know? So I'm just gonna cut the bullshit and go into formalities. Name's Moxt. M-O-X-T. Got that written down, 'cause I ain't sayin' it again."

Well, at least someone wasn't so closed-mouthed in this place. Moxt appeared to be someone who really didn't know the fine details and really didn't give a damn either way.

"Well, now that we got those out of the way," said Moxt, raising his hands, "I suppose we oughta get this over with, eh?"

At that, two balls of fire materialized above his hands. But they weren't ordinary balls of fire; these seemed otherworldly, almost demonic. For a split second, Ned thought he saw a skull in each one, with a snake poking out of the eye holes. Then they evaporated, and out from them fell two heavy, .50 cal magnums. No. 8 caught both of them, one in each hand, and brought his arms down and crossed them, flipping the magnums around in his hands as he did. He looked up at Ned with that smirk that the kid was really starting to hate.

Ned spun his Keyblade around in his hand, threw it up into the air, caught it, and pointed the tip right at his opponent, prepared for another long struggle.

* * *

"_Heh. That the best you got? C'mon, bring it."_

_Moxt raised both guns and fired. Ned whipped his Keyblade in front of him and deflected both shots. The heavy bullets, however, were strong enough to push him backwards a considerable distance._

_Ned barely had a chance to recover when the dark-coated figure jumped up into the air and fired several more shots at him. He twisted and turned, dodging the heavy bullets as they tore up the floor and sent pieces of it flying through the air. He took cover behind a pillar as Moxt landed on his feet, magnums clutched firmly in his hands._

_Now, he thought. Sliding out from behind the pillar, he charged his opponent, slicing his Keyblade to avoid getting lead in his flesh. He ran until he was close enough to twirl and slice. Moxt back flipped away from the swing, pressed his feet against the wall, and aimed both magnums at the swordsman._

"_HELL SHOT!"_

_Suddenly, it seemed as though the two magnums had combined themselves together to become one gigantic magnum. The size of it made Ned gulp, as he thought about what damage it would do. The mousy-haired man grinned and pulled the trigger._

_The bullet that ricocheted out of it was the size of a tank, and could probably completely demolish it too. It tore up the floor as it whizzed towards him, like a comet of death from those old '90s movies. He had never seen a bullet that big before._

_It was coming closer. He could either run, or he could stand his ground._

_He chose the latter._

_He stretched the Keyblade straight out flat like a shield in his hands and stood still, just waiting for the impact that was sure to come. And come it did. The bullet slammed into the Keyblade like an ordinary bullet, but with a very loud sound, louder than anything he had heard so far. Whatever he had been expecting, it hadn't been this; yet again, he was almost thrown completely backwards by the impact._

_But still he held. Pushing into the ground, he kept pushing forward, until finally he had gathered enough strength to fling the bullet off his blade and fling it backwards towards Moxt. The force was just as devastating as when it had left the gun._

_The man didn't even cower. Instead, he back flipped, and the bullet passed underneath him and into the wall and exploded. The blast was intense, and Ned was part-way thrown backwards by it. Moxt landed on his feet and stood straight up, flipping one of the magnums around and then pointed out towards his opponent._

_Ned rolled just as the bullet struck the flooring. He kept rolling, never stopping, as bullet after bullet struck the places where he had lay moments before. He rolled until he was behind a pillar, the bullets striking against it, tearing away more of the slab. He took another breath._

_He rushed out, blade in hand, and before he knew it, he was right next to the gunman, close enough to see the look of surprise that was etched on his face, not expecting this new attack. Ned swung-_

_Moxt raised his arm and collided with his, just avoiding getting struck by the Keyblade. Ned spun and tried again, to place the side of his weapon against the muzzle of the magnum, which fired three times, leaving three large scars._

_This was it, the young Keyblade master decided. Finally, he kicked his leg out and tripped the other. Moxt fell back, his magnums flying into the air. Ned swung once, then twice, and finally, on the third hit, flew him back against the wall, where he slid down and crumpled._

_The magnums clattered down moments later, and then disappeared in balls of fire._

* * *

Ned panted heavily, looking at his opponent, who appeared to be unconscious. He wiped a brow of sweat away from his forehead and looked down; down to where the magnums had just been.

Now, in their places, were a group of cards, much like the one that No. 6 had given him earlier. He bent down and picked them up. There were five now, instead of just one. More floors. More memories.

"Ow…Jesus…"

He looked back up. Moxt was getting back on his feet, rubbing his head where that last swing had clubbed him. He brought his hand away, as if checking for blood.

"Damn, kid," he said groggily, looking up at Ned. "You sure ain't no sissy-hitter. You know how to lay one on me, eh?"

"So these are for me?" Ned asked, holding the cards up.

"Well, _I_ sure as hell ain't gonna use 'em," the other said. "Yeah, they're all yours. You know the drill; use them to move on…not like it'll help in the end, but eh…"

He shrugged. There was something about the way he said it, though, that made Ned feel uneasy. "Not like it would help in the end"…what did that mean?

"What are you saying?" he demanded.

"Eh…you'll figure it out," said Moxt, stepping away from him. "Just keep going kid. You ain't gettin' any older…she ain't wakin' up any earlier either…"

"Hold on-"

"Just follow the damn stairs to lead you to her. It's all you, buddy. Watch it happen."

"Hey-"

That was when he finally decided to warp out of there, leaving Ned once again all by himself. Leaving with once again with many questions left unanswered, and more questions left to ask. And Ren… what was meant by that? The clock was ticking, and apparently, his time was running out.

So he kept moving forward.

* * *

….Five months and this is all I got…terrific.

Sword on projectile is REALLY hard, I hope you all know. Maybe in the movies, it's easy, but putting it into words? No. Not easy. Don't _**ever**_ let anyone else tell you otherwise.

Well, maybe you'll enjoy it anyway.

So, make a day. Leave a review.

Peace until next time.


End file.
